The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face
by MrsLJG5
Summary: Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs notices a 'new' face at NCIS but a familiar sight from his dreams. The following is a prequel to why Gibbs falls in love with a "Girl Next Door."
1. Midnight Confession

July 16

The alarm pinged and he was not ready to start the day.

It was an uncharacteristic trait for him to remain motionless in bed for 30 minutes, his eyes closed and trying to remember the dream. The case of his bedroom guest had a solid lead. Three distinguishing characteristics finally helped with solving the identity. The woman had dark, joyful brown eyes, a comforting smile, and braided hair.

Vividly, Jethro Gibbs remembered kisses—very lengthy, passionate and telling ones—and rainfall. His hands gently cupped her rain-stained face. It was the third dream in a six-week period. He wasn't complaining either, awakened sweetly to begin yet another challenging day as Special Agent for the Criminal Investigative Service. It was maddening not to identify the mystery lover.

He glanced at the fortune cookie message on his dresser: _Your dearest dreams will come true; God looks after you especially._ It was very unusual to receive a message with a religious overtone. After a moment's thought, he continued the morning ritual—shower, shave, and dress.

Gibbs did not play music during work hours. Recently, he embraced the wonders of technology, particularly with music. On his mind was deciphering his own passionate dreams of recent during and after work hours. When he heard the following classic song, he missed the elevator ping, an indicator someone arrived on the floor. She was assigned to the building's food services division and brought the food carts throughout the building, feeding the hungry masses weekdays. It was 6:30 am. She normally arrived at 5 am to prepare coffee and pastry trays for people arriving between 6 and 8. Agent Gibbs, sometimes Abby and Dr. Mallard were the only employees so early in the morning. The MTAC floor was part of the early morning route and only a 5 minute visit during the mornings.

Menu orders and slips were left for those interested in the meals each weekday morning. In the afternoons, she spent at least an hour on the floor dispensing lunch orders. It was the most populated of all 11 floors.

He sang softly, typing at a normal speed and focused on the computer screen.

_The sound of your footsteps  
Telling me that you're near_

_Your soft gentle motion, baby, brings out the need in me that no one can hear, except…"_

Suzanne joined in the chorus.

**In my midnight confessions  
When I tell all the world that I love you  
In my midnight confessions  
When I say all the things that I want to  
I love you**

"Good Morning, Agent Gibbs! Would you like some more coffee?" Suzanne was cheerful. She always smiled and spoke gently to everyone she met. He knew very little about Suz, his personal nickname for the young employee. The music played softly in the background.

"Thanks, Suz."

"You're welcome."

Gibbs' focus diverted to the young woman who poured his coffee from the brown carafe. In passing, he never paid attention to her. It was not to say she was plain. Suzanne normally blended into the building's landscape and said little, just polite pleasantries. That day, everything changed as their eyes met for the first time.

All three components of his desirable dreams were there in his sights. Her hair was neatly braided and shoulder length. Her eyes, covered with square-framed spectacles, did not hide her deep brown colors when in the light were clear. Suzanne's uniform was dull—standard blue polyester pants and denim shirt. She was often out of uniform compliance as she wore her own faded denim jeans to work. They fit just close enough to her 6 feet frame—not too tight or baggy. Gibbs could not help but to notice a small gold Cross around her neck, stopping at the breastplate and how she smelled like lavender.

"That's a…nice fragrance, Suz." Suzanne noticed how Gibbs' small wrinkles from his full smile highlighted his blue eyes. She continued smiling but looked down in embarrassment. It was the most he said in the five years she worked in the basement.

"Thank you, Agent Gibbs." Suzanne whispered. There was a moment in awkward silence. When nervous, she twirled her necklace around her fingers.

"I…should get back to the basement." Suzanne pointed towards the elevator and began to walk.

"Oh, okay…"

"It was nice talking with you, Agent Gibbs." The elevator arrived. Suzanne walked in. "Have a good day, Sir."

"You too…" The elevator closed.

"Sweetie…" Gibbs whispered. He stood on the other side of the closed elevator door.


	2. Brown Sugar (Revised)

It was midday with the smell of college coed returns, preseason national football and the last rush of visitors to Washington before Labor Day. Their tasks were organizing the databases and files. Agent McGee inquired about a working lunch.

"I'll see if Suzanne is working today." She worked in the basement, called the "Hole" due to its delicious food like a "Hole in the Wall." On weekends, she cooked and delivered orders for breakfast and lunch only. The MTAC team noticed that whenever they worked, she did as well. It was not necessarily a coincidence she worked t at uneventful August Saturday.

"If it involves money, Suzanne is working!" DiNozzo responded. "She's a girl after my own heart." A bewitching smile crossed his face.

"And what type of girl is that, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked. "Good looking? Docile? Rule number 23, DiNozzo..."

"Never mess with a Marine's coffee…if you want to live."

The elevator rang.

"I may need to teach you 23 B: be kind to the person who fixes your coffee…"

The other agents noticed Gibbs' smile whenever she distributed food orders. Was it the coffee, they wondered? Never was a food order transaction initiated by the boss. Always, a large black coffee appeared on the cart, the top with G in red marker. The delivery was without prompt or word, just when he finished the previous cup and the second was at his reach.

"Thanks, Suz."

Despite the austere facial expression, not to mention the serious tone, Gibbs was interested. It was her eyes—dark brown—and how instantaneously they met his time and time again. He visited the Hole on occasion. Suzanne was always there. Her eyes and smile were the first to meet on early mornings and the last for comfort after a long day. Months ago, very comforting, intriguing dreams starred him and a comfortable friend. His only memory was a dark-haired, dark-eyed beauty in his arms and Van Morrison playing in the background.

The seconds seemed longer when Gibbs and Suzanne made eye contact. Politely, she smiled. She was very shy—the very reason she glanced downward after initial eye contact. That one personality trait aroused his curiosities; to him, it was incredibly sexy. In his hand was money, including her tip.

"Thanks, Gibbs."

"Oh!" Gibbs reclined in the chair, contented with the beverage. "It's so good!"

The team looked at each other, inquisitive, curious for a happy boss? Contented boss?

"It's just a black coffee…" muttered DiNozzo.

"Ah, but it's the temperature." Suzanne sorted, distributed orders during her explanation. She carried two carts—a shorter refrigerator and a tall, lean warmer. DiNozzo inspected Suzanne, investigated with great detail throughout the explanation. She was taller than an average woman, almost the height of an average man. Her legs were long, so it was very enticing to see a squat or a reach. It was safe to conclude she was muscular but still feminine. Her bosom were above average but seemingly complimented her frame. Suzanne wore glasses and kept her braided hair in a bun. It was her know-how that captivated others, particular Special Agent Gibbs.

"You see, grunts waited patiently for the coffee at mess hall, on camp, and so on. Once they reached the table, the creamers and sugars were gone. It was either lukewarm black coffee or some other brown nonsense supposedly called coffee."

He missed the subtle throat clear to know money was due. When Suzanne caught DiNozzo's vision to her backside, even she participated in the Gibbs attention-getter: a smack on the back of the head! It was like a needle scratch to the record to jolt the present.

"I'll come back to you, Di-Pervert!"

"How did you know that Boss needed coffee?" McGee asked, acknowledged with a nod his thanks for his lunch.

"Call it a gift." She smiled at Gibbs, still relaxed and contented.

"Ziva, this is for you." Suzanne handed a beverage. "It's for Selichot. I thought it would help with the mind, body and spirit." Ziva declined lunch due to religious obligation.

"Thanks, Suzanne."

DiNozzo regained his composure and called for Suzanne, waving money in his hand.

"I'm sorry, Suz. "You can keep that."

"By the way, my name is Suzanne!" She reached in her apron pocket and returned the change to DiNozzo. "And you can't buy me…particularly with that amount!" The others chuckled as DiNozzo continued to stutter. Both Suzanne and the food cart headed towards the elevator.

"I'm really sorry, Suzanne!"

"Shut up, DiNozzo!" Gibbs barked as he tried to catch Suzanne, "She can't stand your ass right now!"

"Suzanne's rule number one: always be nice to the person who handles food." Ziva reminded her colleagues. "And for your sake, Tony, I hope Gibbs can smooth things over with her."

Gibbs managed to catch both Suzanne and the food cart inside the elevator.

"Which floor?"

"The bottom floor." She replied, rearranging her supplies. "You all were my last stop." She looked above. "Why are you coming to the bottom?"

"To make you promise not to spike food." Gibbs grinned.

"Only DiNozzo's, I assure you." Suzanne muttered. "One spice I can throw into his food that'll make him remember me…"

Gibbs was generally short on small talk. In the case of the friendly food vendor, he was quite talkative. She was a challenge to know on an intimate level.

"Grunts, Suz?"

"Daddy was Army; Enlisted man." Suzanne pulled her left sleeve upward to display a tattoo.

"Impressive." People affiliated with the military easily translated chevrons and emblems. The three and three—chevrons and arches—with an eagle—indicated Master Sergeant attached with Fort Campbell.

"I've learned more about you this afternoon than the five years you've worked here…"

"All you have to do is ask."

The bell rang and doors opened; Gibbs flipped the switch for the doors to remain open. Suzanne pushed her carts from the elevator. Gibbs offered to help, but she declined. There was an awkward pause, moment when Gibbs stood in the loading dock.

"Well…thanks for riding along with me." Suzanne smiled. "I promise; I won't spike his food."

"No, you can do that. Maybe it will remind him of…"

"DiNozzo's Rule 3—'Never underestimate your opponent,'" Suzanne responded. "Your team is not the only one familiar with the rules."

"Oh, really?"

"See you Monday, Gibbs."

"Wait!"

Gibbs' curiosity peaked. Of course, he smiled upon hearing her response. He hurried along the corridor to find her. Once he spotted Suzanne, the secured door slammed. Gibbs' lack of access credentials triggered the food area buzzer.

"Damn!"


	3. The Visit

It was rare that MTAC had a light caseload and even rarer for Gibbs to participate in after work get-togethers. All seemed quiet in the government sector for September, which allowed the team some relaxation in a relatively stressful environment.

The entire team met for drinks and light conversation at a quaint DC bar, complete with jukebox. For over two hours, Gibbs conversed and listened to the various musical selections. His mood was jovial. Gibbs ventured over to the jukebox and inserted a bill. He was stumped: a technologically based jukebox?

"McGee!"

The young agent joined his boss beside the jukebox. The first thing Tim noticed was a $10.00 credit.

"Boss, you have enough to play an album."

"Well, play the damn album!"

"Who's Van Morrison?" Gibbs gave the young man the infamous look, to which, shut up and do as directed. Gibbs returned to the booth he shared with Ducky. McGee selected the "Best of" compilation. The song _Brown Eyed Gir__l _played. Immediately, he thought of the familiar brown eyed Suzanne in mid conversation with Dr. Ducky Mallard. A smile came across his face.

"Ah, Jethro, has the mystery girl continued to occupy your thoughts?" Ducky asked. The two old friends were comfortable in a booth while the others played pool.

"Yeah." Gibbs admitted. "I'm certain that it's Suz."

"Is she that lovely girl who works inside the cafeteria?" Ducky chuckled. "Yes, she is rather beautiful."

"Duck, I cannot stop thinking about her." Gibbs grinned as he reminisced of a memory, a very vivid memory that triggered his interest in Suzanne: Halloween. He began the workday earlier than normal and wandered to the cafeteria. His first sight that morning was Suzanne wearing Redskins cheerleader uniform, complete with pompoms. While her kindness and smile captured hearts, Suzanne's curvaceous body intrigued. Gibbs' 5 am start time was memorable. It was a welcomed change from blue jeans and oversized denim short-sleeved work shirts.

"The cheerleader outfit?" Ducky asked. Gibbs nodded, rolled his eyes.

"Well, ask her out, man." Ducky slapped the back of Gibbs' head!

"I was! I am!" Gibbs explained to Ducky what occurred a week before, who chuckled when Gibbs included the security code mix-up. "I don't know if I'll have another opportunity. I don't know why all of a sudden, I'm dreaming about this girl."

Ducky chuckled, "Girl? She's almost 30!"

"Dammit! Why is it everyone else knows her, except for me?" Gibbs' tone was of disgust.

"Maybe it's God placing you two together. Ducky motioned for another drink. "As you say, Jethro: trust your gut. Suzanne may be the lovely distraction needed in your life."

"Thanks, Duck." Gibbs settled his bar tab rather quickly. "I'm going to call her." As Gibbs wished all a wonderful evening, his agenda for the evening was to find Suzanne's home number and ask for a date. Only one thing prevented him, as he remembered on his way to the exit. Ducky walked over to Gibbs where only his dream and interest remained strictly between the two.

"McNamara." Ducky whispered. "Her last name is McNamara. She lives in Foggy Bottom." On a piece of paper Ducky handed to Gibbs was her name, address and phone number.

"Not far from the University."

"She gave it to me in case something occurred at the restaurant."

"Well, Ducky…" Gibbs folded the paper, smiled. "Something did."

It was only a 10 minute drive from the bar and Georgetown. On his way, he stopped at a floral shop and purchased flowers. The last time Gibbs purchased flowers was for Shannon. He was pleasantly surprised upon arriving that her address was a condo and not a typical apartment, decorated with flowers and trees. From the outside, Gibbs heard jazz music. Judging from the silhouette, she was be bopping and dancing about.

"Symphony Sid is jumpin'! Man this old house is rockin'…Symphony Sid is jumpin'; Symphony Sid…" It was a remake. The doorbell buzzed. Suzanne answered, wearing grey sweatpants and a white Georgetown Law T-shirt. Her hair was loose and hanging slightly above her shoulders.

"Gibbs?" Her facial expression was inquisitive. With a single hand motion, he walked inside.

"I brought you a housewarming present."

Suzanne laughed, "You're about two years too late! But I thank you just the same." Suzanne turned down the music with a remote and walked towards the kitchen for a vase. She continued the conversation within earshot.

"Well, this is my home..." Her home was simple—typical of a graduate student but not so much of a strapped-cashed student, in Gibbs' focal point. In one small area was a desk, filled with textbooks, notebooks, and a desktop computer.

"It's very seldom that I am home, but when I am…I make it relaxing and peaceful..." Suzanne continued to talk. Gibbs chuckled softly, continued to inspect her home. Her furniture was chic-shabby, with a newer couch but well-worn lounging chairs with handmade afghans and quilts as back chair decoration.

"It took me about a year to restore this place, probably three years to get the down payment..." Along the bare white walls were hangings—unique hangings of pictures and one of a quilt. Gibbs admired one picture slightly longer than the others. In a simple frame, in black and white photography, was a simple portrait, complete with the closed eyes and covered face.

"Oh. Abby took that portrait at the Friends and Family day." Suzanne placed the sunflower/rose/daisy bouquet along the serving window and joined Gibbs in her living room. Her seat of choice was the couch. Gibbs joined her. It was an intimate space—just enough to have a friendly conversation.

"It's nice to see you, Gibbs, and thank you for the flowers." Suzanne paused, glanced at her book and highlighter on the coffee table. "I was in the middle of reading for my Constitutional Law course…yes, with the music on! Reading caseload after caseload gets tedious. Anyway, my test is Tuesday."

"Remember you said, 'All I had to do was ask'?" First, Gibbs dimmed her living room light. Next, he gently removed the faux tortoise-shelled glasses, sat them on top of her book. Gibbs caressed her face. His head tilt indicated that a kiss was the next step. Gibbs' dream kiss with Suzanne comprised of everything within his imagination. Her lips were soft and tasted sweet. His mouth covered, even pulled Suzanne's bottom lip.

"Gibbs?" Suzanne whispered. A look of confusion was on Suzanne's face after the initial kiss. Suzanne had boyfriends and kissed. It was her first kiss, in retrospect, with a man. She felt the passion through his kiss. Gibbs was telling the truth. To become emotionally vulnerable…it was not a Gibbs characteristic, Suzanne identified. Naturally, she was flattered—and frightened. Suzanne wondered if her flirtatious relationship with Special Agent Gibbs would come to fruition.

Their eyes met again. Those seconds were the most powerful dialogue between Suzanne and Gibbs. His possessed a mixture of boyish charm and seriousness. Hers, however, were deep brown. They were powerful, yet comforting and seductively captivating.

"You have beautiful eyes." Gibbs whispered while stroking her face. He leaned closer for a kiss. They kissed once again, only more passionate and wanting than the first. A feeling Suzanne fought instinctively kicked in, which Gibbs felt in her response. She closed her eyes and savored the moment. His calloused hands rested on Suzanne's neck and soon stroked her hair. Gibbs kissed the nape of her neck.

Suzanne moaned softly in pleasure. With that release, she immediately stopped. She was hesitant to the romantic overture, just slightly. Suzanne was curious as well, but the moan jolted her to reality. The kisses, the confessions were not a dream; it was real. As Gibbs pulled closer, Suzanne created a distance.

"I don't think we should do this. Is it not Rule 12 we are crossing?" Suzanne whispered. Gibbs stopped her lip movement with his index finger.

"You're **not** my coworker. _**You**_ are a law student who works in my building, a person that I want to see socially."

"Speaking of law…" Suzanne tapped her textbook.

"Right." He sighed. "I'll let you get back to studying." Suzanne escorted Gibbs to her front door. He kissed Suzanne on the cheek. "You choose Constitutional Law over a gentleman caller…"

Suzanne smiled, chuckled. "See you Monday, Gibbs."


	4. Weekend

It was the same behavior before the confession. She continued serving coffee and food with the same smile and fast-paced conversations like before. Jethro enjoyed his coffee and smiled with contentedness. Without hints, suggestions, or an out of the way comment, they were dating.

The team remained clueless as to why the boss seemed so…happy. Ducky approved, preferred his happier friend, while others within MTAC were concerned. Tim and Tony were filing, observing Gibbs' wide smile and at-ease posture. He was actually listening to music, singing along with the tune!

_ "I've been traveling a hard road…" _

He was enjoying the plush chair and sipping his coffee. It was widely known Gibbs took one large drink.

_"Baby, looking for someone exactly like you…"_

"What do you think, McGee? New medication?" DiNozzo questioned.

"Mmm! It just might be the coffee."

"He seems rather happy when Suzanne rolls around the cart." Tony said while reading a case file. McGee shrugged. He noticed the boss leaving his desk.

"Gibbs and Suzanne?" He laughed, looked at McGee. "She's not his type!"

Tony was yet on the receiving end of a Gibbs' trademark head smack.

"And what type is that, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked. Tony searched for an answer and instead stumbled and stuttered. "Stop talking and get back to work!"

Suz's deliveries were a perfect diversion to spend time with her on the elevator; he just remembered a file from legal. She was a challenge to know, but it was one Gibbs yearned to unravel her mysterious effect on him. She was a sensual distraction without effort.

"By the way, DiNozzo: she's still pissed. I'd watch out if I were you." Gibbs asked Suz to hold the elevator. "I'm going to legal."

"Bye,_**Dead**_ Nozzo. Enjoy your sandwich." The elevator door closed, with Tony coughing in surprise and Tim laughing hysterically at Suzanne's devilish smile. Like Gibbs, she was also guarded and her personal life was not up for general discussion. Little conversation pieces—her interests in gardening and reading—she was fine with sharing. Gibbs only knew few details. Some were learned through observation, such as left-handedness and no meat Wednesdays. Gibbs pulled the emergency switch, forcing the elevator to stop mid-floor. It was a usual habit whenever Gibbs wanted a private conversation. With the boyish glimmer, he summoned Suzanne to the side. They gazed into each other's eyes, silently reading each other's body language.

"It's Fall Break. You've taken exams." Gibbs touched her cheek. "I also know you have comp time."

Suzanne reminded Gibbs over the weeks of her mantra, 'My life; my rules.' Gibbs learned what took priority in her life. Work and school took precedence. She was seemingly culpable in distancing herself within a relationship. In the past month, Suzanne broke a date or two.

"Oh, really? Snooping in my personnel file?"

"No." Gibbs chuckled. "Both of us are always at work. Come with me this weekend. I want to know you… without distractions."

"I'm not easy, Gibbs." Suzanne learned from the best—both Gibbs and her late father. While never underestimating an opponent, she played her life-dealt cards very carefully. In Gibbs' world, it was Rule 16: always have the upper hands. Suzanne recognized that "wanting" look. Daddy fully explained her womanly powers on her 12th birthday. That was, coincidentally, the day she stopped playing tackle football with neighborhood boys. Suzanne took sacks and tackles without tears, like the 'Army Strong' soldier of Fort Story, VA. Once he overheard a young man intentionally sacking Suz; immediately, Daddy summarized hormonal imbalances as 'the thrill of the hunt.' She embraced her father's persona—duty, discipline and honor. Suzanne was, indeed, disciplined. The trait enraged Gibbs at one spectrum but entertained when it came to dating Suzanne.

"I know. I know!" Gibbs groaned. Their heads met in unison. Again, their eyes were fixated. Smiling, Suzanne kissed Gibbs tenderly on his cheek. He immediately smiled. Suzanne restarted the elevator. Gibbs' floor was before the Bottom tier. The door remained open for a moment. Gibbs waited for an answer.

"Suz?"

"I'll go, Gibbs."

"Yes!" Gibbs pushed his fist back and walked with a sense of accomplishment, humming and singing.

_"Someone exactly like you…"_

Suzanne chuckled, shaking her head. She let out a heavy sigh. It was uncertain how Gibbs would react. He was absolutely right: Suzanne was holding back.


	5. Someone Like You (Part I)

Gibbs' suggestion—"getting away from it all…"-was perfectly coordinated. To the surprise of the team, Gibbs informed that he was going out of town the evening before the trip. Suzanne, he noticed, deserved a much needed break from both work and school. The suggestion was just for his "girl." He planned little for the excursion, just a dinner in town and enjoyable walks in the fall foliage. Instinctively, Gibbs detected something "hinky," as Abby would say. He developed one theory but was uncertain. Besides, he was certain that he finally met his challenge in feminine form. She followed rules of conduct, just like Gibbs. Suzanne possessed discipline with guidance from observing the team and her own father. Another admirable but frustrating quality: intimacy. She never really let her guard down for anyone.

The goal was to learn more about Suzanne—emotionally and physically. Gibbs remembered a song lyric that succinctly summarized the two: "the best is yet to come." Maybe the weekend getaway at his cabin would convince her to trust _him_.

Gibbs arrived at Suzanne's place promptly at 11. Instead of driving the treasured muscle car restored by his father, the pickup truck was the better choice for a cabin retreat. It was also cozier because of its one long bucket seat. They sat an appropriate distance from another while in the area. Once the two left for rural roads, Gibbs' right hand cupped Suzanne's shoulder throughout the ride, eventually pulling her towards him. He slipped a CD inside the player, not knowing if Suzanne enjoyed his music, let alone recognize the artists. The ride was so quiet that Suzanne fell asleep on his shoulder! He recognized a song and sang along at the key part, gently stroking her hair.

_"Someone like you make it all worthwhile. Someone like you, make me satisfied; someone exactly like you."_ Gibbs pulled into the rocky driveway. He tenderly kissed her forehead. Suzanne's eyes opened.

Hi, there, Sleepyhead." He chuckled. "We're here."

Gibbs came to Suzanne's side and opened her car door. He took her hand and assisted her out. Suzanne stood and looked while Gibbs removed items from the bed. She realized the cabin was a big deal. Once, she overheard Tim and Tony reminisce of the time they lured Gibbs back to command and chuckled at their description—a truly rural cabin. "There's nothing for miles!" It was simple, handmade and tended. No cable antenna, no internet service. The woods surrounded the cabin, close to a creek. The brown and yellow leaves falling from the sky only complimented its beauty.

"Your thoughts?" Gibbs walked behind Suzanne, pulling her in closely, his hands wrapped around her waist. From her hair and throughout her body, she smelled of lavender.

"It's beautiful."

"Not quite." Gibbs turned Suzanne around. "You're beautiful." Suzanne coped with compliments in her fashion—not taking them well. She looked down. Gibbs tilted her face to meet his. The mid-afternoon sunlight complimented her earth tone brown skin and hair. He affectionately stroked her cheek and hair. "I wish you could believe it for yourself, Suz." Gibbs kissed her lips briefly. Afterwards, he smiled.

Hand in hand, Gibbs and Suzanne walked towards the cabin. For a moment, they listened to the silence. It was the first in their courtship: the whispering of sweet nothings. _Was saying that a mistake?_ Gibbs questioned his gut. _Then again, what type of girl doesn't like a compliment? _Her silence didn't help at all. _If I could tell by her face_…

Gibbs turned and noticed a down her face. Midway to the cabin, she stopped.

"I need to take a walk...alone." She let go of Gibbs' hand.

"Suz?"

"I'll be fine." Suzanne walked towards the water alone. The tears increased as she walked; Suzanne realized she was falling for Special Agent Gibbs. There was no turning back.

Though not an everyday cook, he took the initiative of cooking dinner during the time. With some ingredients, he created a homemade stew.

"Looks good…" Gibbs commented. He waved the aroma towards his nose. "Smells okay, not as great as hers..." For two hours, Gibbs merely watched from the cabin. He chuckled at the fact that woman opened his senses. She was, indeed, special. Gibbs felt romantic. He discovered it was him humming a love song, cooking a dinner for two.

The coolness of the fall came at sunset, and her only warmth was a sheer long-sleeved shirt. Her jacket was inside the truck. Gibbs walked towards the dock, placing his jacket around her. He embraced Suzanne, stroking her hair.

"I never had anyone call me beautiful and meant it…" Suzanne whispered.

"Except your daddy."

Suzanne nodded. "I always thought there was a catch with men."

"Not with real men." Gibbs looked in Suzanne's eyes. "And there's no catch." He kissed her sweetly, tenderly on the cheek. There was a slight twinkle in his blue eyes, inspecting every inch of Suzanne. Her shyness kicked in, causing her to bury her face in his chest. Gibbs gently lifted her head.

"It's whenever **you're** ready…for more." Gibbs whispered. "I realize you have a lot on your plate."

"Thanks, Gibbs." Suzanne smiled.

Gibbs extended his hand to hold Suzanne's. The two walked towards the cabin. The friendly banter that first ignited their interest returned.

"Now, you need to think of a nickname for me, since I'm your boyfriend…"

"You're not my boyfriend!" Suzanne laughed. "You're my friend, but you're a man."

"Uh huh." Gibbs answered. "I was thinking of calling you 'Sugar'."

"How about I just call you Gibbs?"

"You've always called me Gibbs!" He laughed. I guess it's better than 'that bastard.'"

Gibbs and Suzanne laughed. They continued their walk towards the cabin. The weekend forecast for the two: plenty of laughter and sharing. So far, so good, they both thought.


	6. Someone Like You (Part II)

Gibbs grew to admire Suzanne's conviction even more. In fact, diversions and short answers intrigued him even more. Over dinner on the second night, she introduced Gibbs to more of her rules. "Like Shannon…" Gibbs chuckled to himself, washing the dishes.

"Rule number 2: compliment the cook." Suzanne smiled. "This was good, Gibbs." She joined Gibbs inside the kitchen, handing him her bowl to wash. From behind, Suzanne wrapped her arms around Gibbs' chest, resting her head on his back.

"I want to thank you for this weekend."

"Are you…" Gibbs smiled, facing himself towards Suzanne. "always this…nice?"

"My dad taught me to never take anything for granted." Her hands ran through his soft, cropped silver hair. "Rule 3: say please and thank you." Suzanne gave him a soft peck on the lips.

"Does that include the bedroom too, Miss McNamara?"

"That leads me to the fourth rule…" Gibbs chuckled. "If someone's out to get you, they will wait what it seems a lifetime."

"You know, this is new territory for me." Gibbs had Suzanne wrapped in his arms, stroking her hair and face. They leaned against the wall closest to the bedroom. "I usually _sleep _with attractive women."

"Not with this one." Suzanne replied, chortled. "I told you I don't give it up."

"Really?" Gibbs rolled on his side, traced Suzanne's jaw line with a finger. "Not if I…"Gibbs reached over and kissed her lips. Again, he kissed longer, inching closer. Eventually, he was on top of Suzanne, smiling. His hands secured Suzanne's wrists, playfully. "Begged you?"

"No." Suzanne kissed Gibbs sweetly on the cheek.

"Most women think it's adorable when I beg."

"Not me. I think it's a sign of weakness."

"Hey!" Gibbs' grip became tighter. Suzanne laughed, attempted to break free. Gibbs thought that he had an upper hand. The tables changed as Suzanne out maneuvered, causing him to lose balance. She leaned on top, holding Gibbs by his arms. The moonlight enhanced her beauty, featured her full brown eyes.

Both were breathing heavily, laughing. Her curled braids fell perfectly aligned, highlighting her eyes.

"I really like you, Suzanne."

Suzanne? It was a first. It was usually "Suz," sometimes McNamara, her last name; Gibbs never called her Suzanne. The way he pronounced it—more emphasis on the second: Anne. It was nice and had the right touch of intimacy.

"I really like you too, Sweetness."


	7. Someone Like You (Part III)

Their last full day was met with an entire day of rainfall. Gibbs and Suzanne continued enjoying each other's company over the extended weekend. The two were caught by the surprise storm during a walk. Their clothes were drenched! The unexpected rain didn't spoil their time. They laughed, kicked puddles at one another before returning back to the cabin.

"Come by the fire."

Of all the times Suzanne was reminded by her late father to travel light—Rule 6—she listened! Her small bag contained little, only an oversized flannel shirt and extra undergarments. She didn't have much of a choice. Suzanne was close to Gibbs' size but had very full hips. His extra clothing would only embarrass her bodily flaws. She was not overweight; she had a little belly. It was no choice but to wear only the shirt. The other clothes, way too dirty for a second go-around and the second outfit-soaked.

"Don't laugh."

When she emerged from the bedroom, Gibbs smiled. Her long legs were bare. Suzanne was a tall, refreshing cool cup of water: meaning she wore that flannel shirt. Gibbs took a considerable amount of time eyeing every inch. She did join him.

"I just want to hold you." She shivered slightly. Was it from the coldness or the situation? Suzanne was nervous. Even her old boyfriends admired her long legs, but they only fantasized the actual shape and feel from imagination. Gibbs' hands wrapped around Suzanne's waist while tenderly, teasingly kissing her lips. His hands soon slipped underneath the shirt, caressing her thigh. The touches surprised her, causing her legs to slightly buckle. Suzanne rested her head against Gibbs' shoulder while her hands explored his bare chest.

"Let's take this to the couch…" he whispered.

The time was devoted to merely touching and kissing.

Rule 39, Gibbs remembered: _there is no such thing as a coincidence_. Shannon sent the message through a differently packaged messenger. To wait for anything and particularly a woman, intensified his interest; that was the significance of the dream. He looked towards the Heavens and then to Suzanne, who drifted asleep. For him, it was out of the ordinary. Sexual gratification was secondary. Their weekend episodes were enough to answer why past dreams of a mysterious girl, now identified as Suzanne McNamara riddled his mind. Only there was one woman he pursued with passion. Suzanne jarred him to remember "the oneness," a sense of completeness with the one right woman. Gibbs, deeply in the like stage and afraid of love, was uncertain as to which direction to follow.


	8. Thanksgiving

Suzanne's familial relationships were strained, as Gibbs learned over a Sunday afternoon Chinese dinner. The two sat at his seldom used dining table with various containers in front of the table.

"Are you mad at her?"

"Honestly…yes." Suzanne provided additional detail. Before continuing, she took a huge breath and paused. "She cleared the house of Daddy's belongings. Okay—understandable, but she put his stuff in garbage bags, as if to say he was baggage for all of those years."

Gibbs listened. By her shaky tone, the emotions were real.

"She didn't wait a year before marrying _that_ clown! They were married 42 years…and but 10 months later, you can commit to another man?" Suzanne scraped the bottom of the container. In between the dialogue, she shook her head in disgust, stared out the window.

"I don't like my stepfather and I'm sure the feeling's mutual! That's why I stay in DC and they're almost 3 hours away in Williamsburg."

"I'm not a good example for speaking about marriage." Gibbs muttered.

Suzanne chuckled.

"Well, I'm not sure if I'll ever get married." Suzanne enjoyed the food, using chop sticks. "I never thought about it, dreamt it, and never really had relationships that led to that level. Maybe that's why Mom and I don't get along; I'm too much of Solomon's daughter! I am a reminder of Daddy in her mind."

A cloud of silence came about in the conversation.

"What about your siblings?" Gibbs asked. In previous conversations with others, he overheard men's names. She was the youngest of three, with all sharing the similar initials: Solomon David, Simon Daniel and Suzanne Denise. Suzanne was a Fort Campbell baby, Simon was Monterrey, and Junior was Fort Sam Houston. All three had similar tattoos in similar places as a reminder of their father, though he did not care for body art.

"Oh, we talk." Suzanne said. "We talk once a week and email every day." She explained that Junior lived in TX with his family, while Si was based in the Silicon Valley. Sol, or Junior to the family, was 40—11 years older and career Army, like their father. Simon was an engineer and 5 years older than Suz. Those two were delighted to have a baby sister; Suzanne was equally ecstatic to become an aunt to four boys by the time she graduated high school. Simon, divorced, had the youngest nephew, while Sol and Samantha had three: 15, 10, and 5.

"It's just my mother and her husband I choose not to continue a relationship."

Gibbs understood as to why all three remained close to their birthplaces. She happened to call Virginia her 'true home,' because it was Daddy's last stations before retirement. Before the Virginia Peninsula, the McNamaras lived on Fort Belvoir six years. He was fortunate to retire at Fort Monroe, the oldest military facility in the U.S. before its deactivation.

"Daddy called me Susie—spelled S-u-i-s-s-e—in the womb when he learned I was a girl. You know, 'Hallo, Suisse!' Well, Simon suggested my name—Suzanne Denise."

"So can I call you Susie?" Gibbs flashed a full smile, his blue eyes twinkling. Gibbs lightly touched her hand.

"Only _you _may call me Susie." She replied.

"Well, Susie…" Gibbs moved closer. "Let's spend Thanksgiving together." Gibbs squeezed his hand tighter, looked deeply in her eyes.

"We cook dinner, relax…just the two of us."

Suzanne smiled. "I'd like that."

Gibbs' rationalization: Suzanne opened her thoughts. It was admirable, to become so comfortable that she divulged personal, painful information. Why not, he thought. _ 'I have a lot to be thankful for this year.'_


	9. Someone Like You (Conclusion)

The case was a tough one. For weeks, the team exhausted all resources for just a small lead. During a boardroom meeting, everyone contributed to the brainstorming session and concluded an undercover was needed.

"What we need is someone we can trust but completely undetectable." Gibbs suggested. The elevator dinged after noon. It was the signal for lunch after a 4 hour meeting. Ducky, Jimmy, and Abby returned to their normal posts. DiNozzo, Gibbs, and Tim returned to their desks.

"Hi, everyone!"

Suzanne emerged and rolled the carts inside for lunch orders, like she normally performed. Instead of the uniform, she wore a simple red dress with matching Mary Jane strapped heels. The wrap dress fit close to her body, accentuating her waistline with a simple bow. The length was slightly above her knee, highlighting those muscular calves.

At the desk, Gibbs was inattentive, still planning a course of action to solve the case… until DiNozzo gave a wolf whistle. His mind, preoccupied with Suzanne, of course. As one of the agents played a classic Kenny Rogers song, _Lady_, his thoughts only intensified.

"Down, gentlemen!" Suzanne said, reaching up for prepared food trays. "It's for a special occasion."

Their courtship, past the six month mark, still remained a secret around MTAC. Suzanne and Gibbs maintained a Saturday night date, despite all schedule conflicts. Distinctly he remembered, in detail, the good times—the cabin, midnight strolls along the Potomac, and the kisses—and smiled. Suzanne's smile comforted, invited, and seduced.

Gibbs watched from the desk as she collected, distributed food orders. She noticed Gibbs and simply winked, concentrating on work. Her deep brown eyes lured suitors, whether highlighted by a simple smudge of eyeliner or crinkled in bright lights. Suzanne's physical and emotional beauty forced Gibbs to admit personal feelings with others.

As the male agents made other requests, stalling just to look, he was ready to make the relationship public. Suzanne was his woman; how dare they look at her like that!

"Yes, that's Suz from the Hole. Get your food and sit down!" Gibbs yelled. The male admirers dispersed from the cart and to their desks.

Her last stop was Gibbs' desk with the infamous "G" red marked coffee cup. They just credited her for giving the boss "good coffee", and to keep it up. Gibbs was happier than ever!

A slight wind caught inside her curly hair. It bounced as she headed towards his desk.

**_You're the love of my life….you're my lady._**

"Hi, Gibbs." Suzanne smiled. "Someone from legal asked me to drop it off." From the smaller cart was a red bag. She sat the package on his desk. Gibbs received anonymous gifts during "Secret Valentines," where members within the organization submitted names who needed a dash of love in February. His name, submitted by almost everyone at MTAC!

"Thanks, Suz."

**_"Sierra Mike—what's your 20?"_** Her hips spoke; the transmitter radio was between the dress and apron. During the weekdays, a radio device for deliveries was used. A moment passed and again, a voice paged for Sierra Mike—Suzanne McNamara.

**"Sierra Mike, your 20?"**

"Nice dress, by the way." Gibbs studied her frame. "Very nice dress…"

"MTAC." She responded.

**"25 me at extension 1443, please." **

"10-4." She placed the radio into her apron pocket. "May I?" Gibbs nodded, and Suzanne used his phone. She stood in place with one knee bent, hip resting on his desk. Gibbs' eyes began from the top of her head, working down. For a moment, he studied her breasts, nestled in the v-shaped top.

Rule 27 from the Book of Gibbs: "Two ways to follow: First way, they never notice you, Second way, they only notice you." Suzanne was definitely noticeable. Suzanne's rule 6—Don't cry like a girl, meaning remain Army Strong like her daddy-contradicted the next, number 7: show your femininity. He was a former Investigator. She inherited his yen for discovering the truth behind others. "And having your physical assets," her father mentioned before his death last year, "will help with determining five. Who can resist a woman?" Rule 5 coincided with his 39: "If it waddle like a duck, quacks like a duck, it's a damn duck! " Gibbs felt inspired and found the answer to the case. Suzanne was almost an agent, a woman of intellectual and aesthetic mystery, the perfect undercover.

"Are you sure? Okay, then. Bye." Suzanne leaned across Gibbs' desk, hanging up the receiver. Her trademark lavender lingered in the air.

"That was Mary from Command Post. Change of plans. I need to set up a banquet hall for that meeting ASAP..."

"How's your undercover work, McNamara?" Tony and Tim overheard Gibbs, looked at one another with concern for the Boss' decision.

"You tell me…" She responded. "I've never done undercover work."

"Um, Boss…" Tony walked over and placed a hand on Suzanne's shoulder. She elbowed his rib.

"Don't touch me, Pervert…"

Tony grunted in pain but continued his thought. "Suzanne is a civilian. She doesn't know the intricacies of the job…"

"Are you calling me dumb, DiNozzo? Really?!" Their eyes glanced at Tony.

"What do you need, Gibbs?"

"You." Gibbs kissed Suzanne tenderly on the forehead. "Meet us here in about 20 minutes."

"Wait! What's going on?"

"I'll fill you in." Gibbs dashed upstairs towards Leon's office. "DiNozzo, tell 'Tight Lipped' Mary Suz is unavailable until further notice and that she has an available hand."

"Who's filling in for Suzanne?"

"You, DiNozzo!"

"You, DiNozzo." Suzanne chuckled and smiled. She walked toward the elevator with her carts. With little force, she pushed the items inside. "How's that for intricacies of the job?" The elevator closed.


	10. Seductress

**"Why are you wearing an earpiece?"**

"Oh, that's for the banquet manager." Suzanne flipped a premade screen of the room layout. "See? We're inventorying electronically to return back to the rental agency." She pointed at Tony and Tim. All three were similarly equipped.

_She'd make a good field agent, thought Gibbs. _

Suzanne made the perfect decoy—noticeable without being noticed as an agent. Their lead was at an embassy event, and she was just the bartender/hostess in red. The guests assumed she was one of the regular employees. Suzanne walked into the ballroom, tray in hand and dispensing cocktails. The earpiece resembled a Bluetooth element and the cellphone was indeed a cellular device but with a camera. She circulated around the room, analyzing the situation. Several times Suzanne's appearance distracted the man, Zheng Dao. He was the potential subject, a Chinese Ambassador, chatting with others in his native Mandarin.

"Got me, Gibbs?" Suzanne whispered. Gibbs observed her from a secured room with Leon. The camera captured Suzanne's frame—her noticeable physique—at the precise moment she prompted the question.

"Oh yeah…looking good, McNamara."

_"Kàn tā de xiōngbù!" –You are sexy… _

"Oh, please…" Suzanne muttered. "As if you have a shot."

"McNamara…" Gibbs growled. "You're catching the bait."

"I wish I knew what he was saying." Tony groaned, Suzanne standing alongside with Tim.

"Wǒ zhīdào yǒuxiē zhōngguó rén.-" I speak a little Chinese. "And he is an absolute pig!"

"McNamara, continue to circulate." Gibbs ordered.

He finally made the move once she made hers—a seductive reach for a bottle.

"Oh, I know he's looking…" Suzanne commented.

"You know it." Gibbs responded. "Heads up, 11 o'clock."

_ "Wǒ néng dàilǐng nǐ de nǚhái."_

"Whoa…got something, Gibbs." She walked into the storage area. "Mentioned something about the girls…and adding me to the collection. Oh, Hell, no!"

"Keep him talking, McNamara."

"How?"

"Use what the Lord gave you."

"I don't like where this is going…"

Suzanne returned from the kitchen with additional mixed drinks. She mingled around, eventually going back to the Chinese Ambassador. She remained cool, as Gibbs and the team suggested. Not once she led on that she understood the Mandarin language or that her official title was "Mini NCIS Agent."

"More champagne?" Suzanne carried the tray like a professional. The perfume lingered in the air. The Ambassador picked up the glass, smiling at her.

"Thank you."

Suzanne walked away subtlety, with slow strides. She continued to work around the bar area, chatting with individuals and mixing drinks. The Ambassador came over and placed a large bill into the tip jar.

"Five minutes of your time?" The man extended his hand, helping Suzanne from behind the bar and into his range.

"So, what time do you leave tonight?"

"Around 9." Suzanne responded. "I have to clean up. Then, I need to go home and study. School night."

"Ah…student?"

Suzanne nodded, smiled, shyly, as usual. It was her sign of weakness, or so she thought. Gibbs continued to observe upstairs. Tony and Tim mingled around as bartenders. She snared the person of interest.

"Atta-girl, Suz!" He mumbled. "Keep him interested, baby."

"Baby?!" Tony repeated.

"Not now, DiNozzo."

"Well, can I take you out to dinner?"

"I think you should know my name first…" Suzanne walked towards the tables, clearing empty glasses.

"What is it?"

"Susan."

Sū shān, wǒ dǎsuàn ràng nǐ... Jīn wǎn. "Well, Susan: can I take you out to dinner after this gathering?"

"I need to shower and change." Suzanne faced the Ambassador's direction, subtlety crossed her legs. "Is it okay if I meet you at Renaldo's? Say 10 o'clock?"

_"Hey, __**Susan. **__ Please come to the bar."_ Tony paged, his request the right frequency for the Ambassador to hear. "I have a question about a mixed drink."

"Oh, I better help Tommy out." Suzanne pointed at the bar, smiled. "So I'll see you at 10…?"

"Jim." The Ambassador said. "My name is Jim."

Suzanne walked towards the bar, winked at the two male agents. The three continued in character—barkeep, bar back, and cocktail waitress—and shared intel.

The preliminary work took six weeks; Suzanne infiltrated and identified the source within an hour. The three walked upstairs carrying equipment, meeting Gibbs and Vance in the observation area.

"Risky move, Suzanne." Tim muttered. "He has an entourage."

"Listen: do you all want him or not?" Suzanne asked. "Then what's the plan, Tim? DiNozzo?" There was a moment of silence between the three, some static in the listening device. "That's what I thought."

"You don't have a weapon."

"I do. It's called attractiveness, DiNozzo." Suzanne gathered the trays, walked in front of the two gentlemen. "I'm like UPS—What can 'Sexy Brown' do for you today? You're about to get a lead."

Tim and Tony were speechless once they noticed Suzanne—really noticed Suzanne. Both Gibbs and Vance served the head slaps.

"As you were saying, Boss?" DiNozzo commented.

"McNamara, how are we going to catch him?" Gibbs asked.

"Well, he thinks Tony and Tim are my coworkers at the catering company. Let's continue the charade."

Simple as that?

"So have them at the bar with you, after hours cocktails?" Suzanne nodded. "Sounds like a decent enough plan."

"So I'll go home, shower, and change..."

"Do you need help?" Tim asked. Gibbs gave a head slap. "It's a legitimate question, Boss."

**_"I'll_** follow Suz home…" Gibbs replied. "You two…" He pointed at McGee and Tony. "Continue breaking down the bar—or _pretend _to get some more info_._" Gibbs glanced at his watch, then, wiggled a finger. "Grab your gear, _Brown Sugar_, and let's go."

* * *

Suzanne drove an old Jeep Wrangler, with personalized tags (MsEagle) and its tagline, "Taxation without Representation." She was one of the few people who actually lived in the District. A family vehicle once belonging to her father and then Sol, she inherited the car when she attended William and Mary. She was observed by some of Jim's associates.

"Wait a second." Suzanne stopped before the two left the building. "Let me walk out alone. You come out in exactly two minutes."

"Suz…"

"Trust me." Suzanne whispered. "There's someone else involved."

She noticed the black van parked away from hers. It was about 200 yards, and Suzanne distinctly remembered the truck closer to the parking lot. Her plates revealed her real name, her address. Suzanne walked out with bags and entered her car. She pretended she had car trouble. Jethro walked out at precisely two minutes, observing her reach for the jumper cables and raising the hood.

"Something wrong, ma'am?"

From the casual eye, Gibbs looked as if he's assisting. He pulled the work car in front of her jeep.

"A jeep." Gibbs said.

"1988 4 wheel drive, 5 speed transmission." Suzanne whispered. "My dad bought it when we moved to Virginia."

Her jeep started.

"Thank you."

"Wanna follow you home?" Gibbs yelled.

"No, thank you. I'll be okay." Suzanne pulled away, honking her horn and waving as a sign of thanks. Gibbs sat in the car for a moment, noticing the van pull away as well. Immediately Gibbs reached for his cellphone and dialed a number.

" Meet me at…" He shared Suzanne's address. "She's being tailed."

The truck passed by her residence. Suzanne parked in front of her home, checked her mail and opened her front door. Immediately, she reached for the main light switch.

"You work at the MTAC building."

_God, I hope Gibbs get a gut to come back._ Suzanne thought. Things that Daddy taught his daughter, besides the game poker, was to keep a poker face. Still frightened, Suzanne managed to keep cool, calm and collected.

"As a food service worker. I deliver food. I go to school."

"I'm disappointed in you, Miss McNamara." "And here I thought you were just an ordinary person, not a Federal Agent. Nice cover."

She sat her keys on her entry way table.

"First of all: what the hell are you doing in my house? Second, I'm **not** a Federal Agent." Suzanne said. She walked into the closet, hanged her coat, purse and kicked off her shoes. In a locked box underneath a shelf was one of her two weapons. One switch, she could retrieve it. She was not fearful and found it unnecessary to draw her weapon.

"I told you earlier, Jim. I'm a college student." She pointed at her book collection and backpack.

"Special Agent Gibbs...NCIS?"

"So?" Suzanne remained calm. "I ran into him. He jumped my jeep."

Suzanne walked into the kitchen to make coffee.

Suzanne made note of the height differential. She was five inches taller but 40 lbs lighter than her opponent. "I figure you've cut the phone lines, looked for anything that definitively traces me as an agent." Suzanne dismantled the bun hairstyle, freed her braided locks onto her shoulders.

"You had people follow me home. Are you disappointed?"

"I must admit I am." Jim said. "I need your help."

"What you need is a good reason why I _shouldn't _take out my 9 mm and shoot you." Suzanne sipped her coffee. "And breaking and entering won't make me cooperative."

Three sharp knocks vibrated from Suzanne's front door. Jim motioned for Suzanne to answer the door. "Come on with us, Ambassador!" Gibbs commanded, with Tim and Tony pointing their weapons on the Ambassador. Other agents came to handcuff.

"Please help me, Miss McNamara." The Ambassador pleaded, leaving her residence. Everyone left from inside the home to her stoop.

"I had an uneasy feeling all night." Tim commented.

"That's probably the liquor." Suzanne responded. "He claims a setup."

"What do you think?" Gibbs asked.

"Definitely, it's too neat how the information points to Ambassador Dao. We need to do the legwork."

Gibbs chuckled.

**_"We?_** No ma'am. You're off the case!" Gibbs looked at Suzanne. "I cannot date you and continually save your life."

Suzanne chuckled. "You just saved his; I own a 9 mm and a 38."


	11. Suzanne Super Snoop

"I told you that you're off the case, McNamara."

Suzanne came into MTAC after hours, finding Gibbs at his desk and looking through the database. She stopped by after class a few days later, dressed in her jeans, long-sleeved shirt with blazer. Instead of the typical briefcase, she carried a black backpack. She had two cups of coffee. One was hers, while the other she picked up for Gibbs.

"And I told you Dao was set up." Suzanne handed Gibbs his cup and opened her bag, tossing a file onto his desk. "There's the proof."

Gibbs fumbled through the paperwork, Suzanne further explained.

"Dao secured Amnesties, study visas for the girls in the village, nothing else."

"Someone higher up?" Gibbs questioned.

"Definitely." Suzanne leaned closer to Gibbs' desk, flipped the file to the pages. "No offshore accounts. No mysterious deposits, withdrawals…He was working within the law."

Gibbs became distracted by Suzanne's lavender perfume. It lingered in his work area. He took a large breath to simply enjoy the aroma.

"Um…Suzanne?" Gibbs recomposed himself. "Where did you find the information?"

"I have a friend whose friend works at the Embassy." She replied. "They'll give declassified information for us to sort over for Law Review. I did some footwork and found this information." Suzanne passed another file. Gibbs read, eyes growing larger in surprise.

"We need to talk to Ambassador Dao."

"I did." Suzanne replied. "I took him some coffee to the interrogation room."

He looked curiously.

"People tend to let down their guard to someone nice." Gibbs nodded in agreement. "Anyway, he helped in narrowing the pool down to 2 people."

"Good work, Angel."

Gibbs kissed Suzanne on her forehead. Tim noticed the sign of affection, didn't think anything further except the fact Boss was happy.

"Thank McNamara for sticking her nose into our business, McGee. We got a lead; let's roll!"


End file.
